


A Wolf in Thief's Clothing

by RoFire9



Category: Leverage, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Badass Eliot, Gen, Hardison/Parker is background., Hurt Eliot, Includes fanart!, Otherwise this is pretty much as close to canon as I can make it., Protective Eliot Spencer, Rules for werewolves match Teen Wolf Universe., Scary Eliot, Teen Wolf fusion but no Teen Wolf characters appear, Werewolf Eliot Spencer, You do not have to know anything about Teen Wolf to know what is going on.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 08:45:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10613367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoFire9/pseuds/RoFire9
Summary: Eliot has a secret.  He... is a werewolf.  So far, he hasn't had to reveal that fact to his team, Parker and Hardison.  But, when a job goes south and Eliot has to protect his teammates by any means necessary..can the team handle the fall out?  Or will they just fall apart?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE Leverage. But...I have also been watching way more Teen Wolf than is probably healthy for me. That said...this is the twisted brainchild of those two worlds. I didn't include any characters from Teen Wolf mainly because they exist in California and the Team is in Oregon. Also, I wanted to limit the amount of characters since this is the first fanfic I have ever finished and I wanted to make sure it actually got finished! XD I hope you enjoy this story. You don't have to know anything about Teen Wolf to read it because I tried to include as much information as possible for the rules regarding werewolves. This way, you will understand what is going on even if you haven't seen Teen Wolf.

 

 

Eliot had secrets.  Granted he had fewer now than he used to, but even working with a team he knew he could trust, there were some things that he would take to his grave.  He meant it when he told Parker he would tell her the worst thing he did while working for Moreau, his ‘greatest sin’, if she asked.  Thankfully though, she never did.  Neither did anyone else on the team.  Deep down they understood, not all secrets had to be shared.  So time passed, Nate and Sophie retired, and still…no one knew all of Eliot’s secrets.  Usually for good reason.

But by far the strangest secret Eliot had was the kind that no one would really believe even if he told them.  That is because Eliot Spencer, former Black Ops/assassin, retrieval specialist, ladies’ man, gourmet chef, who grew his own food, drank beer, watched football, who watched over Parker like a big brother and exchanged snarky comments with Hardison on a regular basis…was also a werewolf. 

It happened some time before he met the team that was now his surrogate family, during his very last job for Moreau.  It was the same mission his ‘greatest sin’ was committed.  As part of the mission, he had to break into the mansion of someone that was cutting into Moreau’s business dealings in order to steal something that Moreau wanted.  Needless to say, it did not end well. 

Eliot had to get through a few security guards to order to gain the item he was sent to retrieve. One of the guards had more Bratva tattoos than you could shake a stick at.  He only just barely managed to knock the guy out long enough to get away, which in hindsight was either a testament to Eliot’s skill or an actual miracle. Of course, at the time, he didn’t realize what he was up against or how lucky he was to have even survived the encounter. Who would ever guess that the Russian-Mafia-turned-bodyguard guy was an Alpha werewolf?  Eliot just thought the guy was playing dirty by actually _biting_ him. But lo and behold, a day later the physical wounds had healed and Eliot was a full blown werewolf. The wounds he couldn’t see from the rest of the mission, however, would take much more time to heal.

It took a while for Eliot to figure out exactly what happened to him as a consequence of the bite, as unbelievable as it was.  So, he did what he did best.  He adapted.  He began researching anything and everything he could about werewolves.  Know your enemy, know yourself, and you can find the way to survival, if not victory...to paraphrase Sun Tsu.  He may have felt like a figurative monster, but he had no desire to become a literal one.  He learned about the hierarchy of wolves, the Alpha, the leader and the only werewolf who could turn others into wolves, the Beta, the loyal follower, and the Omega, the lone wolf who lives without a pack and is the weakest of the three.  He learned about their strengths, weaknesses, and abilities.  What could hurt them, what could heal them, and what horrors they were capable of doing.  While most of the information he found was fiction, made up by Hollywood or misinterpreted from old legends, he managed to find a few people (who were either wolves themselves or knew someone who was) hidden in the shadows of society that knew what they were talking about.  From them, he learned enough to understand what he was, to control the wolf within him, and that there was no going back to being human…ever.  Somehow that seemed fitting to him.  After the things he had done, he didn’t think he deserved to be human anymore.

  .................................................................................................

 

**Present Day**

 

Eliot sat in his home, the full moon high in the sky outside, drawing out his instincts, his wolf, as he shifted into his beta form.  He flexed his hands, gazing at the claws now protruding from the tips of his fingers.  He never showed them to anyone.  He never used them during fights either.  Claws, like guns, were designed to kill.  He preferred to disable his opponents instead.  The speed, agility, and strength that came with being a wolf helped with that, but most of the time, Eliot was doing everything he could to _not_ use his werewolf abilities.  It allowed his enemies to underestimate him more easily.  It forced him to depend on actual skill rather than strength alone.  Strength could be taken from you.  Skills could not.

But, every once in a while, on nights like tonight when there was no job to do and no one else was around, when the moon was high and full and singing to him like a siren would to a doomed sailor, he would indulge himself just a little.  He would let the shift happen, loosen the tight leash he kept on his wolf, and run free for a night.  He would drive out to some small bit of forest and just…run.  This was his only true vice.  When he ran like that, he was free.  He had no past to haunt him, no future to trouble him, and the threats of his enemies did not hang over him like the proverbial sword of Damocles.  His eyes glowed an iridescent blue as he howled into the night, his bare chest heaving with every breath and his feet sure and swift on the ground below.

He darted through the brush and past branches, over roots and stones, pausing a moment here and there to take in the scents and sounds around him.  The night was filled with a cacophony of insects, frogs, and other creatures.  The air brushed against him like a lover, filling his lungs with life and his nostrils with the scents of the night.  He could smell the trees, the earth, the flowers, and the deer that had passed through the area not long before. 

As a human, his release came from his cooking, the thing which allowed him to feel.  As a wolf, his release came from running, chasing the occasional rabbit or other furry creature (which, if caught, usually ended up as an ingredient in his next culinary exploration), and mostly just….being.

After getting back from his run, he shifted back into his human form.  His brow smoothed out, his fangs retreated, his claws retracted, and the tufts of hair that appeared along his jawline disappeared.   He stayed in the shadows of the trees for a moment before approaching his truck, alert for any sounds or scents that seemed out of place.  He was always careful on his runs not to attract too much attention.  That last thing he wanted was a witness to his true nature. 

He opened the door of his truck, grabbing the t-shirt he had left there when he heard his cell phone ringing.  Apparently Parker had a new job for them.  A client had called and asked to meet them in an hour.  Eliot told the team he would be at the pub shortly to meet the client and talk strategy before hanging up and getting in the truck.  Before driving off, he took one last glance at the full moon, feeling its tidal pull on his inner beast.  He took a quick breath to calm himself.  Control.  Always keep in control.  Control was his anchor, the rope that tied him to what humanity he had left.  If he was going to protect his friends, he had to keep that control as steady as his own heart.    

 

 

...................................................................................................

 

Eliot arrived at the pub a good half hour before the client was supposed to show.  Upon entering the pub, Eliot spotted Parker and Hardison at one of the tables near the far wall.  It was late at night so there was no one else around, the employees and customers having long since gone home.  In his line of work, Eliot had long ago developed a habit of checking a room as soon as he entered.  He glanced around, looking for threats, hiding spots, potential weapons.  He catalogued all of these and more in mere seconds.  It didn’t matter if the space was familiar or “safe.”  He still did it every single time.  Some habits were so ingrained that they were impossible to break.  This was actually a good thing in Eliot’s case.  Like he said, when you did the things he had done, there was no such thing as paranoia.

Eliot didn’t sit with Parker and Hardison.  He dipped his head in a quick greeting as he passed by them, choosing instead to take a spot behind the bar.  While he was here he thought he might as well check the menu choices for the next week and make sure they had not run out of any necessary ingredients.  Besides, his teammates were familiar with his penchant for lurking.  Sometimes you could learn more from observation than conversation. 

When the client arrived, Eliot immediately noticed something about her that made him uneasy.  It is said that some animals can smell the biochemical signals that people emit when under stress or feeling a strong emotion.  Basically, they can smell fear.  This is actually true, especially with werewolves.  To Eliot, the woman who just walked in _reeked_ of fear.  There was something else familiar about her scent, something that made Eliot’s wolf feel a bit uneasy, but Eliot couldn’t quite place it.  For the moment, he shrugged it off, opting instead to consider the matter later on when he had more time.

As Eliot examined her more closely, even from across the room, he could hear the pounding of her heart as if he were standing in the percussion section of an orchestra.  Her arms circled her torso, like she was hugging her stomach.  Her stance and gait indicated she was favoring her right side, as if that side was in pain.  She slouched slightly and her hands and shoulders shivered almost imperceptibly.  It was nighttime, but it was the middle of summer and it wasn’t raining.  There was no reason for her to be cold. 

The more details Eliot noticed about the girl, the more complete the picture became.  She was a pretty lady, no older than her late 20’s, with strawberry blonde hair and dark green eyes.  Her nails, clothes, and shoes were all a matching cobalt blue, expensive and impeccably well kept.  Her makeup was heavy for someone so young, but Eliot could see the reason why.  There was a large bruise around the girl’s left eye and cheekbone, evidenced by a slight discoloration in the makeup, which she had tried to conceal.  She had done well considering.  Eliot doubted anyone who was not actually looking for it would even notice.  The woman sat down with Parker and Hardison and began telling them why she needed their help. 

The woman had heard of them through a friend of a friend of a friend, or something like that.  She had heard stories of the “people at the pub” that helped people with problems they couldn’t solve on their own.  So, she had come to them about an issue she was facing.  Her husband, a real estate mogul, was about to make some shady deal that would put at least a hundred people out on the street.  Hardison and Parker listened, asked questions, got as much information as they could, and then told the lady that they would get back to her.  Hearing this made Eliot pause, were they not going to take the job? 

The lady nodded silently, her eyes glistening, but no tears were falling even though Eliot could tell she was just about ready to break down and cry.  He watched in silence as she stood up, picked up her purse, and said “Thank you for your time.” before walking out of the pub with as much dignity as she could muster.  Eliot immediately went over to his teammates to see what was going on. 

Hardison was already talking to Parker.  “Babe, we already completely booked, okay?  I feel for the woman, but this is small potatoes compared to the jobs we got comin’ up.  We worked our butts off to get that damn list with Nate and Sophie and we gotta follow through with that.  We got ‘bout fifty other groups saying they wanna get in on the list too and we still gotta finish the research on that Mattock thing.  We swamped girl!”  Eliot scowled at Hardison.  He knew the guy meant well, that he was basically just playing devil’s advocate, but surely Hardison understood why they needed to do this.

“Dammit Hardison, didn’t you even notice the bruising around her eye?  How she was favoring her right side as she moved?  The woman was beaten recently.  Considering how much skill and effort she put into hiding it, I’d say this has happened before.  Everything about her screams abused wife.  Plus, the guy she married is not only dangerous to her, he is about to turn dozens of families out on the street. The list can wait.  These people need help _now_.”

Parker seemed unusually quiet as she considered the options.  Since Nate had chosen her as his successor, she began taking things a little more seriously.  Eliot knew though, she was a little bit scared that she might mess up.  A moment later, her demeanor changed as a mischievous grin spread across her face and Eliot wondered, not for the first time, if Parker was not somehow part feline.  There were times when she reminded him a little too much of the Cheshire Cat.  She looked directly at Eliot and simply said, “We’re doing this.” 

The decision was made.

  

...................................................................................................

 

The job itself was simple.  Or, at least it was supposed to be…

 

First, research one Richard Niccolo, a.k.a. the abusive real estate sleazeball.  

Turns out he was the owner of several properties, some of which were tenement slums that were such horrifying, roach infested, crime ridden death traps that they made a cardboard box in a garbage filled, bloodstained, sewage smelling alleyway look like Buckingham Palace.  According to his wife, Niccolo had been complaining about needing funds to buy up better properties but he was having trouble selling the ones he already had.  He needed a way to get rid of the least profitable of his current properties without actually selling them, all while still making money off of it.  His answer?  Insurance scam. 

The question then was what kind of insurance scam?  The team looked at Niccolo’s properties and knew that the least profitable properties he had were the tenement buildings, housing dozens of men, women, and children.  After a bit of surveillance and online sleuthing, courtesy of Hardison, the team discovered that Niccolo had been in contact with Mark Aiden, a man convicted twice of arson.  This was worse than they thought.  The people in the tenement buildings were either going to be homeless or be burned alive. 

This wasn’t just some insurance scam.  This was murder.

 

The next step was to set up the pieces on the board.  

They managed to find Aiden, only to find out that he was stuck in the state penitentiary with another 20 years left on his sentence.  He told the “lawyer” that came to see him, pretty and blonde as she was, that some rich dude kept calling him, saying he would pay him very well if he told the guy who to call to torch a building or two.  Parker may or may not have made some comment about possibly committing arson herself at one point, which is one of the times her particular brand of crazy worked in the team’s favor since Aiden seemed so enamored with her after that he was willing to tell her anything she wanted to know.  Hardison, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel totally creeped out by the old, wheezing, bald headed arsonist hitting on his girlfriend.  Eliot was not only inclined to agree, but made a mental note to contact a buddy of his in the justice system, maybe ask him to move a few things around or delay a few appeal documents to make sure this guy never saw the light of day again.

But, the show must go on, as Sophie used to say.  With a little persuasion, the team convinced Aiden he could get his sentence reduced if he participated in a ‘sting’ operation, giving the rich guy a name they chose.  The name of Eliot’s fake identity to be precise, Damon Alcander.  Parker flashed Aiden a big fake smile as she left, grateful that Sophie had taught her how to deal with creeps like this without stabbing them, although she really, really, REALLY wanted to stab this guy.  But alas, she couldn’t take that risk.  At least Aiden would still be stuck in jail when this was all over.  So, the call was made.  Aiden played his part beautifully.  Niccolo fell for the bait and agreed to a meet at a time and place he chose.

So far, it was all falling into place.

  

Just before it all fell apart.

 

...................................................................................................

 

Niccolo had called for the meet with his hired “arsonist” in an old, empty warehouse he owned, as cliché as that was.  Eliot came in, ready to play the part of Damon Alcander, wearing dark jeans, a stained shirt, and a leather jacket that looked like it had seen better days.  In his hand he flicked a zippo lighter open and closed as if it were some nervous habit.  Upon entering, he spotted Niccolo from across the expanse of the warehouse.  The guy was tall, slender but with a muscular build and chiseled features.  His clothes were impeccable.  He didn’t have a single black hair out of place on his head.  He basically looked like a runaway GQ model.  For a moment Eliot wondered how many milliseconds it would take for him to take down such an easy target.  He enjoyed visualizing such things.  It made him feel better when he couldn’t just walk up and punch the guy like he wanted to.

But, a moment later, the light breeze coming in through the large loading doors changed direction, moving downwind towards Eliot, carrying the scent of Niccolo with it.  The moment Eliot caught the scent, he froze.  He knew that scent.  He smelled it on the blue lady that came into the pub.  The scent triggered something in him, an instinct he did not want to come to the surface.  His wolf was going crazy inside of him, torn between fight and flight.  He suppressed the low growl that threatened to emerge from deep within his chest.  Instead, he took a deep breath and focused on his control, keeping his heartrate as steady as he could.  Ages ago, Eliot had taught himself how to control his heartrate in order to beat a polygraph test.  It was a skill he used almost every day now, especially when Hardison was being annoying.  He had to make sure he didn’t accidently rip his friend’s throat out somehow. 

As Eliot continued to move towards Niccolo, he breathed in and out, focusing on the action rather than the scent that was affecting him so badly.  As Eliot moved closer, he could see Niccolo’s nostrils flair slightly.  The man, no, the werewolf was scenting Eliot as well.  Niccolo turned towards him, an arrogant smirk on his face.  It wasn’t the grin that Eliot was focused on though.  It was his eyes.  His eyes burned an angry, bright red.  Alpha red.

 

 

An Alpha.  The strongest, toughest, fastest type of werewolf there was.  The male model son of a bitch in front of him was powerful enough to kick Eliot’s ass.  A stream of curses ran through Eliot’s mind along with thoughts of _this wasn’t the plan have to change the plan have to adapt keep breathing just stay calm and keep breathing._

“Well,” said Niccolo, “I didn’t expect the little firebug to send me a wolf.  And here I thought wolves hated fire.  Tell me, what pack do you belong to little beta?” 

Eliot could hear the confused gasps of Parker and Hardison through his comms.  Thankfully, neither of them actually spoke yet.  He knew he couldn’t risk the Alpha finding out about them.  But with the Alpha’s enhanced hearing, he was bound to hear anything his team said through the comms.  Eliot also knew he could not risk turning the comms off completely because if his team were to suddenly not hear him, think he was in trouble, and then come out of hiding to help him, then the Alpha would tear their throats out.  So, he kept the comms on, made it so they would hear everything they were not supposed to hear, in order to keep them safe.  He did, however, turn the volume down on his earpiece, disguising the move as simply brushing a few strands of his hair back.  This way, the team could still hear him, but he could not hear them, which meant the Alpha could not hear them either.  A least this way Niccolo would not know of their presence.  He could only hope when this was over he would be able to explain everything to them.

“I have no pack,” Eliot told the Alpha.

“An Omega?  Why should I waste my time on the likes of you?  Can you even do the job I’m asking for?” 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Eliot seethed on the inside, but outwards his composure never wavered as he said the words he really didn’t want to say.  He really wanted to punch this guy.  Better yet, he wanted to break every bone in his body.

“Yes, Alpha.”

The Niccolo seemed to preen at this, having established his dominance and forcing the Omega to submit to him.  The guy was obviously obsessed with power through the control of others.  Eliot thought the guy was an idiot.  As far as he was concerned, the only true power came from controlling yourself.

“Good boy.  You take care of these three buildings for me and you get $300,000.  Don’t bother negotiating for more.  You won’t get it.” 

Niccolo held out a file containing a map, photos, and blueprints of the assigned buildings.  Eliot took it, keeping his eyes on the file and not on Niccolo.  Just like with dogs, wolves could feel threatened if you looked them in the eye.  That was something Eliot simply could not risk…not now anyway. 

Eliot glanced at the contents of the file and asked, “When?”

“You’ve got three days.  Make sure it looks like an accident.  Don’t leave any evidence that ties to me.  But above all…don’t screw up.  You may not have a pack little wolf, but I’m sure there is someone in your life that you don’t want to see harmed.” 

His eyes blazed a threatening red, a low growl emanating from his throat as he made his threat.  Niccolo was trying to be intimidating.  Trying to appear every bit the conqueror.  Eliot may have been playing the role of submissive Omega, but he was not impressed.  Still, he kept his eyes down and his heart steady.

“Understood, Alpha.”

“Alright then.”  Niccolo continued.  “Do the job.  Do it right.  Meet me here when it’s done.  You’ll get your money then.  Who knows, if you do well enough, I may even let you join my pack.” 

Eliot bowed his head slightly and agreed to the deal.  With that, Niccolo walked away.  Eliot headed back to his car.  He had lot of explaining to do…

  

...................................................................................................

  

Eliot waited until he was out of earshot before turning his comms back on.  Considering the guy was an Alpha; that distance turned out to be a few miles….just to be sure.  The second Eliot put the volume back up on his comms, he could hear Hardison freaking out. 

“What the hell was that?!  This better not be some more Moreau bullshit you pullin’.  I may not be able to kick yo’ ass but I will find a way to mess you up.  Just you wait.  Can’t believe you’d pull this shit on us again.  On me!  How many times I gotta tell you to NOT turn off yo comms?!  And what the hell is an Omega?  That some frat brother bullshit?  What the hell was that guy takin’ bout anyway?  I swear man if you don’t start speakin’ up in five seconds imma…”

“Hardison!  Shut up!”

“Oh, so now you talkin’ to us.  You know you can’t pull that kinda shit on a job Eliot.  They are called comms for a reason!  Com-mu-ni-ca-shi-on!  I know you know what that means.  Now come on man.  Talk to me.  What the hell is goin’ on?!”

“I’ll meet you back at the pub.  I’ll explain everything there.”

“Are you serious?  What did I just say?  No, Eliot we gotta talk about th...”

Eliot shut off the comms.  He needed the rest of the drive to think.  How the hell was he going to tell his friends about something like this?  How was he going to explain that they had to abandon this job completely?  Maybe even leave the city if they had to…

He was starting to wish he had never insisted on taking this job in the first place.

 

 ..................................................................................................

 

Niccolo never trusted anyone, not even his own pack members.  That was why he ruled his pack with a fist not made of iron, which Niccolo thought was far too common, but something colder and harder; what he liked to call…a diamond fist.  It suited his expensive taste and his cruel nature.  So, it was natural for him to immediately take a closer look at this “Damon Alcander” that had come to work for him.  A few calls to some contacts in the shadier parts of Niccolo’s government and business circles told him everything he needed to know.  Damon was not who he said he was.  Damon Alcander didn’t even exist.  If there was one thing Niccolo could not tolerate, it was a liar.  He gathered two Betas from his pack and went to track down the little Omega that dared lie to him.  It wasn’t long before they tracked his scent to a little brew pub on the other side of town.  Niccolo smiled wickedly.  No reason he couldn’t have some fun with this after all.

 

...................................................................................................

 

As soon as Eliot walked into their headquarters, Hardison started giving him an earful.  Eliot pointedly ignored him while he went to grab a beer.  When he came back, Hardison was still talking.  So, Eliot pulled out a chair at the conference table and sat down.  He stayed silent as Hardison tried to equate the current situation to some vague Star Wars metaphor…as if he thought that would teach Eliot something.  It wasn’t until Parker, noticing Eliot’s heavy silence, stood up from her current position, which was seated on the conference table a few feet away from where Eliot currently was.  As she walked over to Eliot, Hardison, ever aware of Parker’s presence, finally stopped talking and actually stopped to look at Eliot.

While Parker waited patiently for Eliot to speak, somehow knowing he needed time to gather his thoughts, Hardison just looked on, confused, but took his cue from Parker and kept quiet as well.  Eliot sipped at his beer, staring at the table surface, and used this rare moment of silence to consider his options.  He could tell them just what they needed to know, that the job was a bust and they had to bug out while they still had the chance.  This way, he could keep his secrets, his silence, and just pray that the team would still trust him.  Or…he could tell them everything, about what he was, about Niccolo, the shift, the runs through the forest and the pull of the full moon, the meaning of his glowing blue eyes…and pray they didn’t send a mob after him with torches and pitchforks.  Eliot took a deep breath, letting it out in a frustrated sigh, resigning himself to what he had to do.  The silence became oppressive, stifling, and ominous, like the air before a storm that sweeps away all in its path.  He knew what he was about to say would either keep his teammates safe or possibly destroy them all.  Even if they survived this job, the team might never recover from it. 

“Guys.  I….” 

Eliot never got to finish that sentence.  The muffled sound of shattered glass interrupted him.

No sooner had Eliot been about to speak, he just stopped.  He canted his head to the side, listening for something outside of the broken glass they heard earlier.  His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared as he seemed to pick up on something the other two couldn’t hear.  The tension in his posture increased tenfold.  Someone was in the building, and they were definitely not invited.  "Eliot," Hardison whispered nervously, "What is it?"  He sensed how Eliot was on high alert.  If he was, there had to be a reason for it.  Parker kept silent, knowing better than to give away her position if a threat was around. 

They had worked together for years now.  In that time Eliot had tried to train them how to interpret different signals and hand signs in order to tell them what they needed to do without actually speaking.  To Parker, he motioned upwards, indicating the suspension rig that she kept attached to one of the rafters.  It allowed her to test new harnesses safely and to just swing around whenever she wanted to.  Parker nodded then went to set up her gear.  Another signal had Hardison moving into Nate’s old office which now acted as a server room for Hardison’s own personal network.  The hiding spots would do little to help his friends if Eliot failed to stop whoever was now so politely knocking against the door that led into the conference room. 

 

...................................................................................................

  

The knocking stopped.  The ensuing silence was sharp and foreboding, like a razors edge, but it was shattered the same moment the door was splintered apart with a single blow from the intruder.  Eliot shot to his feet, ready to face whatever was coming.  The glow of red eyes told him all he needed to know about his foe. 

Niccolo stood in the doorway, immaculate hair, well cut suit and overall douchiness intact. 

“I warned you not to cross me little Omega.  Lying to me is a good way to get on my bad side.  Did you really think I wouldn’t look into you?  That I would simply take the word of that pathetic arsonist?  You should have known that I could hunt you down whenever I wanted.  I am going to grab your little friend in the other room and turn him into my own personal chew toy.  And your little bitch up there should prove very ‘entertaining’.”

He pointed in the directions of Hardison’s and Parker’s hiding places as he spoke, having found them out from their no-doubt frantic heartbeats in this crazy situation.

In the time it took for Niccolo to finish his little monologue, Eliot had already weighed his options and knew none of them were good.  Eliot's thoughts raced by so fast it was as if time stood still for an instant as he surveyed the scene.  Niccolo stood ahead him, flanked by two betas, both with blue eyes. "Dammit," Eliot thought himself.  "Three against one. The Alpha is the strongest, if I can take him out first the other two might submit, but if I do that the Betas might get to Parker or Hardison first."

He knew the odds were not in his favor.  He could only hope that his teammates would stay safe in their hiding spots and not try to interfere. That would only get them killed.  Eliot's trained mind scanned his enemies but found no obvious weaknesses he could exploit.  He had no weapons on him, not that it would help him much. He needed to shift to get his claws.  There was no way in Hell he would win against an Alpha in human form.  He would have to shift, revealing himself to his friends.  There was no other option.  No other way to survive.  Just like there was no escaping what he now had to do to the Alpha.  There was no knocking the Alpha out. There was no prison they could send him to that could hold him.  If he escaped he would hunt them down wherever they went and kill them.  Or worse. 

The Betas he could deal with…but the Alpha, he had to die.  

 The decision was made.

 

The consequences would come later, if at all. Eliot was not going to leave his friends, his family, helpless at the hands of this monster. Either this Alpha was going to die, or both of them would.  

With that, Eliot took the leash off his wolf.  The shift came easily, his claws extending and his fangs elongating.  He let out a loud, defiant, roar that actually made the two Betas take a step back.  Niccolo just smirked, like he was looking at a bug he was about to crush under his heel.  He shifted and the two other wolves followed suit.  Not to be outdone, Niccolo let out a roar of his own, a deafening sound that vibrated through Eliot’s very bones.  But, where he had once felt the instinct to submit to this jerk before, now he only felt a kind of righteous hatred.  This Alpha had threatened his friends.  Basically, screw him. 

Eliot wasted no time in going on the offensive.  He tackled the Beta to his right first, who apparently had more muscle than actual fighting skill, wrestling him to the ground quickly and clawing his abdomen and legs so deep he severed a few tendons.  By the time the Beta could heal, the fight might actually be over.  That, however, was just about when the other Beta decided to start fighting him.  Eliot took a few heavy punches to the ribs, cracking at least two of his ribs in the process.  Eliot pushed through the pain, knowing the wounds would heal soon enough.  He managed to shove the Beta onto his back, putting himself in a position to land a few well aimed punches at the Beta’s head.  Between Eliot’s fist and the hard floor, the werewolf was unconscious in just a few hits.

Having dealt with Riff and Raff, Eliot stood, looking around for Niccolo.  A frightened squeak from Parker caused him to look up, only to see Niccolo standing on top of the rafter right next to Parker, who was carefully backing away from him.  Suddenly, he lunged at her, causing her to lose her balance.  As she fell, his claws swept down, severing the rope that held Parker in the suspension harness.  She plummeted straight down, a timid yelp leaving her lips.  Eliot leaped across the conference table, faster than he could ever remember moving, and caught Parker just before she hit the ground.  Parker sprang up and ran for the door where Hardison stood, waving her over to him.  They closed the door tight.  The sounds of crashes and moving metal told Eliot that they were trying to barricade the door. 

“Impressive Omega.  Didn’t think you were fast enough for that.  You were so busy with my apparently worthless Betas, I was beginning to feel left out.  Thought I might shed some of the boredom with the little blonde toy.  Oh well, I can always play with her later.”

If Niccolo’s words were meant to get Eliot to make a mistake and lunge at him wildly like some feral beast, it didn’t work.  Eliot rose slowly, taking inventory of his injuries, which ones had healed and which ones he might need to compensate for.  He glared at Niccolo with an intensity that would make a stone gargoyle weep in fear.  Niccolo glared back, slowly realizing this little Omega was not going to be cowed by him in any way.  The thought that this little, insignificant, weak Omega was refusing to obey him…

Niccolo attacked, roaring in rage.  Eliot tried to dive out of the way, but the Alpha grabbed him by the throat and threw him into the large display screen, shattering it.  Eliot struggled to his hands and knees, trying to catch his breath, trying to regain control of himself and the situation.  He had no time to think before Niccolo was burying his claws into Eliot’s back, piercing several organs in the process.  Eliot rolled to the right, grabbing Niccolo’s wrist on that same side, effectively pinning that arm under his body while he grabbed the other arm as it came down, but not before it made a large swipe across his chest, leaving four deep gashes in its wake.  He broke the arm that clawed him against his shin, then elbowed Niccolo in the face twice before darting away to get some space between them. 

 

 

When Niccolo lunged at him again, Eliot was prepared.  He used Niccolo’s own momentum against him, sidestepping just as the Alpha’s deadly claws were about to eviscerate him.  He pushed in close to Niccolo, looking right into his eyes, then swiped his claws across the Alpha’s eyes, effectively blinding him, at least temporarily.  Enraged, Niccolo franticly swiped his claws at Eliot in long, sweeping gestures, but Eliot dodged each one.  With each dodge, he would land a hit on a different part of Niccolo, his leg, his back, and his abs.  But, Niccolo got in one lucky hit, a claw strike to Eliot’s chest, which Niccolo quickly followed with a gut wrenching bite to the back of Eliot’s shoulder.  Eliot snarled at the pain, desperately trying to dislodge the guy’s teeth from his clavicle.  He finally wretched him away, tearing a good chunk of flesh out of his shoulder in the process.  As Eliot turned around, he grabbed Niccolo by the throat with his good arm.  He dug his claws in deep, watching as the rage in Niccolo’s eyes slowly gave way to fear as he realized he could not escape the deadly grip.  One last squeeze, and quick jerk backwards, and Niccolo fell lifeless to the ground, minus his trachea. 

Eliot felt the surge of energy as his eyes went from blue to red.  He had killed the Alpha, he had taken his power, and now….

Now….

  

...................................................................................................

 

The power surged through Eliot’s veins like a drug made of pure fire.  He let out a triumphant roar, intoxicated by the scent of his enemy’s blood.  The two Betas behind him stirred, fear in their eyes as they saw the lifeless remains of their Alpha on the floor at Eliot’s feet.  Immediately, the two Betas bowed their heads, exposing their necks in submission to this new Alpha.  Eliot didn’t care about them.  They were weak, easy to beat.  He didn’t want wolves like them hanging around.  He picked up the dead Alpha’s body and tossed it to the Betas.  He gestured towards the door, wanting them to leave and take the body with them.  When the two wolves hesitated, Eliot roared again, right in the shivering Betas’ faces.  The Betas picked up the body and ran out of the place faster than a pair of jackrabbits. 

His instincts were in overdrive.  If he were in the woods he would be running full speed, chasing any prey he could find.  But he wasn’t in the woods.  And the only prey he could sense were the two trembling heartbeats behind the closed door…

Eliot smashed through the door and the meager barricade behind it after only a few hits.  Hardison and Parker ran to the back of the room, huddled together in fear.  Eliot’s red glowing eyes were all they could see in the darkened room.  He stalked towards them, grabbing Parker’s arm as soon as he was within reach. 

“Noooo!   Eliot snap out of it!  Let her go!  LET HER GO!!!!” 

Hardison tried desperately to separate the two, but Eliot’s grip was far too strong.  Eliot yanked Parker towards him, but then he hesitated.  He started smelling her, a look of confusion on his face.  He looked at Hardison and started sniffing in his direction, but he made no move to grab him like he did Parker.  Instead, a look of horror slowly dawned on his features.  His eyes went from blazing red to his normal, human, steel blue color.  He released Parker’s arm so quickly it was as if his hand had been burned.

“Parker…Hardi…I….I’m sorry.  I…” 

Upon recognizing Parker and Hardison by scent, he was finally able to take back control of his wolf, put the leash back on and regain control.  As he did, a tsunami of guilt crashed right into Eliot when he realized he had lost control and attacked his friends.  He exited the room as fast as he could, tears burning his eyes as he took in the amount of damage he had done, the smashed door, the smashed display screen, and the blood and bits of flesh strewn across the conference room floor.

All these years, all that work to control himself and now…

He really was just a monster.

He walked right out of the pub.  He didn’t look back when Parker yelled his name.  He didn’t want to see the look on her face.  He knew it would break him.

 

...................................................................................................

 

Parker and Hardison worked together through the night to clean up as much of the mess as they could.  They figured they might as well since neither one of them would be sleeping.  Parker worked on the blood stains since Hardison got queasy any time he looked at them.  He just about cried when he saw what kind of shape the display screen was in.  That thing was custom made.  In Japan.

Eliot didn’t return that night.  Or the next night.  Or the night after that.  The lady in the blue dress returned and asked what had happened.  They just told her that Niccolo would not be coming around anymore.  She cried tears, not of sadness, but of relief.  She was finally free of that monster.  They agreed to split the money from Niccolo’s offshore accounts.  Half would go to the team for their work and the other half would be used to renovate the tenement buildings to make them safer.  It didn’t feel like a victory, but they knew to take what they could get. 

Three weeks later, Eliot returned.  He had spent that time in the forest, relearning how to control himself with this new Alpha power and trying to figure out how he was able to keep himself from killing his friends.  There were a lot of splintered trees that attested to the difficulty of such a task.  When he finally figured it out, he decided to return.  He thought about just running, taking the money he had socked away and just retiring in some far off place, but he couldn’t make himself do it.  No matter what, he at least owed his friends an explanation, if they were willing to hear it that is.  He came into the building, admiring the solid work done on the new door, but instead of heading towards the back rooms or the kitchen, he sat down at one of the pub tables, just like any other customer.  This way, he figured, the team could see him coming.  They could approach if they wanted to or not and if they told him to go and never come back…well, he would respect their wishes. He waited there for about five hours, ordering a few thing here and there to keep his energy up.  The waitresses cast him strange looks as they passed, but never said anything.  Eliot was grateful for that.  He just wanted to sit there with his thoughts.  Alone.

Meanwhile, Parker was staring at the new display screen Hardison had set up.  There, on the screen, was Eliot, just sitting there, looking normal.  But he wasn’t normal was he?  He had the teeth and the claws and she could still feel the bruises on her arm where he grabbed her.  He ripped out that guy’s throat.  He scared her and Hardison.  Was he even Eliot?  Maybe he was some creature that looked like Eliot but wasn’t, like in that movie she watched with Hardison that time about the pod thingies.  But those things don’t really exist.  At least that’s what Hardison says.  Parker still had doubts about that.  Before Parker’s thoughts about Eliot and pod people could go any further, Hardison came in from the back door and saw Eliot on the screen. 

“How long has he been out there?”

  
“Five hours,” said Parker.  “He drank two cups of coffee, a beer, and asked the waitress for extra jalapenos with his gourmet cheeseburger.” 

Hardison glanced from the screen to Parker, taking in how she was curled up in on herself, refusing to look anywhere but the screen. 

“What do you want to do, babe?”

Parker glanced down at the floor.  Hardison wondered, not for the first time, what thoughts were going through her head.  He never really got her, but damn if she didn’t get to him.  It was part of why he loved her so much. 

Parker looked up at Hardison after a moment and whispered, “I want to understand.” 

Hardison nodded, then wrote out a note and went to give it to one of the waitresses.  The note read “We need to talk.  Come to the conference room.”

So, that was how Eliot came to be seated at the conference table, in handcuffs (Hardison’s suggestion, which Parker had apparently approved of.  Eliot deliberately chose not to think about why they would have handcuffs readily available.), slowly and carefully explaining everything he knew about werewolves.  He didn’t blame them for taking precautions, not that the cuffs would hold him anyway, but if it made them feel safer then so be it. 

First, he apologized profusely to Hardison and especially to Parker.  He told them he was a wolf, how long he had been one, and then apologized again for not telling them, but then listed all the reasons he didn’t, the least of which was they probably would not have believed him anyway.  He explained about Niccolo, the red eyes, the meaning of blue eyes, the differences between Alphas. Omegas, and Betas, and why he had chosen to kill Niccolo and what had happened when he did.

When he came to the part about where he hurt Parker, he couldn’t stop the tears that escaped his eyes.  He was a real man’s man.  He didn’t cry.  At least not in front of people.  But now…the tears refused to stop.  He hurt her.  He could see the bruises on her arm plain as day.  Those bruises would fade with time, but Eliot knew he would spend the rest of this life earning her forgiveness, or at least trying to.  After several more hours, between the explanations and the questions, he noticed that Parker was less skittish around him, or maybe that was just because she was tired.  Hardison seemed less pissed off in general, but that didn’t mean much either.  Eliot didn’t dare hope that they would ever trust him again.  Hours later, Hardison called it quits, told Eliot that he and Parker needed to talk about all this.  Then he undid the handcuffs and Eliot walked home to await their decision. 

When Eliot returned the next day, he sat down and awaited the return of the handcuffs.  Parker and Hardison both came in without them.  Hardison faced Eliot and said “We each have one question for you.”

“Ok.” Eliot replied.

“Can I see it?” Parker said.

“What?”

“The wolf thing, whachmacallit…the shift.”

“Um…why?”

“Because I wanna see it!”

Eliot took a deep breath, and carefully allowed the shift to come.  Parker looked on, not in fear, but sheer awe.  She carefully examined every inch of his face, the ridges on his brow, the facial hair, even trailing her fingers through his hair to reveal his pointy ears. 

Satisfied, she put her hands down and said, “You look kinda like a scary puppy.”

Her face lit up then, and Eliot could have sworn that if it were possible, a giant, bright white light bulb would have appeared above her head at that moment. 

“I always wanted a puppy!  Yay!!!  I have a puppy now!”

Parker erupted into a fit of excited giggling after that.  Eliot tried not to laugh.  He really really tried.  But the sheer joy at the idea that his friends, his pack, had actually accepted him far outweighed any insult this particular joke had.  For now at least.  He only hoped the unfortunate nickname would not stick….but knowing Parker, who knew?

So yeah…he laughed.  And if there were any tears that escaped, he could always just blame it on the laughter.

“Ok, time for my question.”  Hardison chimed in. 

Eliot nodded and gave his friend his full attention.  Parker continued to giggle in the background as Hardison cleared his throat and took a solemn stance in front of Eliot. 

Then he said, “Would you prefer the hot dog or the hamburger squeaky toy?”  Hardison held out said toys, squeezing them with mischievous glee before tossing them in front of Eliot.

“…”

“You wanna play Eliot?   You want to play with the toy, puppy?” 

“…”

*squeak squeak* *squeak squeak*

“Dammit…HARDISON!”

Knowing better than to stick around, Hardison raced up the stairs, laughing uncontrollably and making more dog jokes all the way.  He mentioned something about getting Eliot a muzzle if he was going to bite.  Also he may or may not have suggested a trip to the vet to get his shots.  Eliot chased after him, bound and determined to make sure that Hardison never made a dog joke about him again. 

Parker giggled and started playing with the squeaky toys.  After hearing a loud thump upstairs, she yelled, “PUPPY!  DON’T HURT MY BOYFRIEND OR YOU WON’T GET ANY TREATS!”  Hardison laughed so hard he may or may not have peed a little bit (The answer differs according to whether you ask Eliot or Hardison.).  Eliot gave up on chasing Hardison and went back downstairs to get himself a beer.  They finally settled down a bit and Eliot made them some delicious food.  They spent the rest of the evening talking and telling stories.  This, Eliot thought, was as close as he would ever get to Heaven, to have these people by his side, his friends, his family, his pack.  Once more somewhere deep in his heart, he swore to protect them till his dying day.   

 

                

 

 – The End

 

 

Thank you for reading this!   <3  
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Comments = Bigger hugs!

 

**Author's Note:**

> The following is footnotes for werewolf rules and other things you might not know.
> 
> For the sake of this story, the rules of the Teen Wolf universe are being followed in terms of werewolves. There are three types of wolves, alpha, beta, and omega. An alpha is the leader of a pack and the strongest type of wolf. Betas are the wolves that follow alphas. The more betas an alpha has, the stronger he is, the stronger the betas are, the stronger the pack as a whole. The omega is the wolf that has no pack and no alpha to follow. They are considered the weakest type of wolf. In this story, Eliot is bitten by an Alpha, who are the only types of wolves that can create other wolves through a bite or deep scratch. Eliot is an omega after that because he does not join a wolf pack.
> 
> Bratva refers to the Russian Mob. They have a lot of tattoos because they use them as a resume for when they take jobs for the mob, showing how long they have been in prison, how many people they have killed, etc. They also use them as a form of insignia to differentiate rank.
> 
> Werewolves have glowing eyes in three different colors, red for Alpha or yellow for omega or beta.  
> Eliot has glowing blue eyes because he has taken an innocent life. When this happens to a beta or omega, their eyes change to bright blue instead of the usual golden yellow. For an alpha, their eyes remain a burning red. If an alpha who has killed an innocent loses their power and falls to a beta or omega, their eyes revert to blue.


End file.
